Chapter 3
Tristan's eyes welled up with tears when he saw my broken hand.
His angry voice was tinged with helplessness.
"Laura, why can't you give in to me even once?" he asked.
I was too exhausted to argue with him. I said calmly, "If there's nothing else, Your Majesty, I'll take my leave."
When Tristan didn't stop me, Pamela hurried over and picked me up.
But as we were about to leave, Tristan's cold voice pierced the silence once more.
He said, "If I remember correctly, Pamela is twenty-three this year, isn't she? It's about time she got married.
"Lady Mabelle, I'll leave this matter to you. Make sure you pay special attention to it."
Tristan's words set my nerves even more on edge.
I knew him well. When one scheme fell flat, he always had another ready.
He was using Pamela to push my buttons, hoping I'd snap and do something reckless.
I wasn't about to let him have his way. That night, I bribed the palace guards, hoping to smuggle Pamela out of the palace under the cover of darkness.
But Tristan had already anticipated my move.
When Pamela reached the palace gates, Mabelle caught her.
Mabelle shoved Pamela in front of me, her tone dripping with mockery. "Your Majesty, where were you planning to send Pamela off to?
"Pamela should feel lucky. His Majesty himself said she should be married.
"I was asked by His Majesty to handpick twelve suitors. Pamela just needs to take her pick."
Mabelle waved her hand, and twelve men filed in, lining up neatly before us.
When Pamela saw them, she hid behind me, shaking with fear.
I clenched the edge of the bed, anger slowly spreading through me.
"Lady Mabelle, what the hell is this?" I demanded. "They're all beggars."
Mabelle spread her hands, acting clueless. "So what if they're beggars?
"I picked them out. They're pretty great in the bedroom.
Seeing me still shielding Pamela, Mabelle leaned in, covering her mouth for a taunting whisper, "Pamela will definitely have a good time with them."
I lost it and clamped down hard on Mabelle's throat with my unbroken hand.
Mabelle struggled to breathe, but she was bold. A victorious smirk curled at her lips.
"Go on, kill me," she said. "If you kill a royal consort or an royal heir, that's a capital offense.
"If my death, and my child's, can give His Majesty the excuse he needs to send troops, then it's worth it."
Hearing Mabelle's taunts, Pamela seized my wrist, shaking her head urgently to hold me back.
"Your Highness, don't let her trick you," she warned. "For the people of Tuicaea, I'm not afraid."
Pamela's eyes were swollen with tears, but she tried to smile through them. "My mother and sister are still back home in Tuicaea.
"I don't want them to ever suffer humiliation or harm."
A wave of helplessness washed over me. I let Mabelle go, utterly defeated, and could only helplessly watch as the twelve beggars dragged Pamela into a chamber.
Obscene laughter echoed nonstop, each vulgar sound hammering at my ears.
Maybe Pamela didn't want me to worry, so she didn't make a peep the whole time.
I had no idea how long it lasted, but finally, Pamela limped out.
Her clothes were all messed up, and her hair was a tangled mess.
I held her tight in my arms, keeping her away from the hungry, predatory stares of those beggars.
Pamela's voice was rough, but she forced herself to stay strong, fighting back her shame as she managed to comfort me. "I'm okay, Your Highness."
Mabelle frowned, letting out a cold snort. "Didn't think you had any guts, girl.
"But this palace chews up anyone with guts.
"Looks like you couldn't make up your mind tonight. No worries, I'll drop by again tomorrow.
"Next time, I'll handpick some real fun ones for you."
*****
That night, Pamela and I held each other close, neither of us getting a wink of sleep.
When she saw the guilt and self-blame written all over my face, Pamela gently patted my back, just like she always did whenever I was hurting.
She said, "Don't worry, Your Highness. I've already thought of a way to deal with this.
"But you have to promise me, no matter what happens, don't act on impulse. You have to keep living, for my sake."
That night, Pamela softly sang a Tuicaea folk song called "Going Home," humming it again and again.
For a moment, it was as if we were back in Tuicaea, like the old days.
Back then, Pamela was half a head taller than me, her eyes sparkling as she smiled and reached out her hand. "Your Highness, I'll be with you from now on."
The dream played out like a performance, replaying every memory I had with Pamela.
When I woke, my hand found only emptiness.
Through tear-blurred eyes, I searched for Pamela's familiar smile, but it was nowhere to be seen.
All I saw was her body, cold and lifeless, hanging from the beam.
When Tristan finally arrived, I was sitting there in a daze, cradling Pamela's lifeless body.
My tears had long since dried up.